


Wanton Actions

by filthybonnet



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 09:47:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16216508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/filthybonnet/pseuds/filthybonnet
Summary: Upset with how rehearsal turned out, Christine returns to her dressing room only to find her thoughts flustering her to the point she needs relief. What she doesn't know is her Angel of Music has come to make sure she is okay after witnessing the rehearsal.





	Wanton Actions

Christine locked the door of her dressing room and sighed. Rehearsal for “The Magic Flute” had been trying. Moncharmin and Richard received notes from the Opera Ghost insisting Christine sing the part of Pamina much to the dismay of Carlotta. 

She only learned of this when rehearsal ended early because Carlotta started an argument with the management as they walked down the hall before they even reached the office.

“Do I look like A Queen of the Night?” The question everyone was waiting for was finally asked.

“Yes, a beautiful one,” Richard said.

Carlotta stormed off the stage and the managers followed. Everyone turned hoping to hear as much of the argument as possible as they headed towards the office.

“Daae as Pamina? Let me guess The Phantom sent you another threatening letter!” Carlotta’s voice turning shrill.

“We don’t want another ‘accident’ besides our Ghost is right, she is delightful but that doesn’t mean we cannot have alternating nights …”

Once they were out of hearing range, Christine felt eyes on her from the stage and elsewhere. She looked up at box five and swore she caught a swift moving shadow. She stormed back stage and to her dressing room.

She removed her skirt and top before undoing her bustle and shoes. She hung them all up in her closet and put on her dressing rope and slippers. She laid down on her pink chaise lounge and sighed again. She needed to rest.

“Oh Angel of Music you have cursed me,” she whispered. “You have made my voice too strong, too beautiful. But you have also blessed me.” Christine closed her eyes and caressed her throat. “Fulfilled my father’s promise and delivered me my dream.” She slowly ran her fingers down from her throat, down into her robe and allowed the tips to rub gently over the tops of her breasts that popped out from her corset. _My Sweet Angel of Music sharing his voice and music only with me. He was watching rehearsal, wasn’t he? Of course he was._

Christine opened her eyes. “No **_Erik_** was watching,” she said aloud to herself. _Erik in a mask. Even as he hides in the shadows._ She felt a slight ache between her legs. The same ache that came when she knew some physical pleasure would bring stress relief. She sat up and untied her robed long enough to undo the grommets of her corset, not bothering to loosen it, and tossed it to the floor. She then laid back down on the chaise lounge, her open rope draping over the edges like a blanket. Christine closed her eyes and she pushed the neck line of her chemise down to expose her breasts. _Some stress relief would be nice…_

The soprano cupped her right breast and kneading it gently before pinching her peaked nipple. She gasped in response. _My Angel of Music insisting I get the best roles…Erik overlooking to confirm it happened._ She grabbed her left breast with her left hand and repeated the exact same action. The ache now turned to a tingle as she felt her heartbeat escalate. _My Angel has a name…Erik…how sweet it sounded when you finally told me. A real man of flesh and blood._

She stopped for a second. _Why am I thinking about Erik? That terrible, awful face behind the mask…_

If Christine Daae would have opened her eyes and held a candle up to her full-length mirror at that moment she just might have caught the faint outline of that mask looking into her dressing room. 

Erik left Box Five just a few seconds before Christine ran from the stage. His first stop was the opera office. He knew Carlotta would throw a fit at some point and was ready. Swift and silently he sat three letters addressed letters on one desk: Moncharmin, Richard and Carlotta. He wrapped himself in his cape to help cloak himself in the shadows just as all three of his letter recipients approached the office. Once the door was slammed Erik took off. _My Angel, my Christine! I must see if she is okay._

By the time Erik made it through the labyrinths to the back side of Christine’s mirror, he was greeted with the sight of Christine on her chaise lounge, breasts exposed. His mouth dropped opened and he gasped. He caught it in his throat before it became louder. His golden eyes widen in their sunken sockets. His cheeks flamed alive with a flush of blood. He knew he should run back to his underground layer, pretend he did not see this but he could not look away; he was still a man. 

Christine caressed the curves of her body as she slid her hands down over her chemise pulling it up to expose her stomach and bloomers. She brought her left hand back up to her left breast and rubbed light circles around her areole and nipple. She sighed. Her thoughts returned to Erik. _He’s more than a disfigured face…he’s a stunning voice…his devotion to me._ Christine spread her legs the slit in her bloomers exposing her sex. Her hand wandered down her body her fingers finding her sex swollen and wet. She gasped softly.

The Phantom instantly focused on the dark curls between the cream-colored bloomers that opened like a curtain to reveal lush, glistening pink lips. He licked the thin dry ones on his face as Christine’s finger swirled around the little plump pleasure mound at the top of her sex. _Oh Christine…Christine…I did not know you could have such wanton desires. To know we could be indulging the pleasures of the flesh together._

Christine wiggled her finger faster against herself, her breathing becoming labored, she dropped one of her feet onto the floor spread herself wider. _His fingers are so thin and lanky oh how easy they would fit down here. But would he tremble as he caressed me here? No…no…he’d take control as he does in my lessons._

“Oh Erik…Erik…” The soprano whimpered.

Erik felt his knees buckle when his name escaped Christine’s lips so lustfully. His shaking hand braced himself against the cold stone wall. His breath was now slightly labored and rattled in his rib cage. He feared she would hear him. _My name! My name! She’s thinking of me as she pleasures herself? Could it be…_ He took a deep breath and regained his composure as best as he could. His shaking hands removed his mask and he wiped the perspiration away from his forehead. He lowered his hands to his groin, as if covering the throbbing bulge in his pants with his mask somehow eliminated it. 

Christine sunk her fingers deeper into her breast kneading it ardently. Her other finger collected her juices as she ran her fingers down her folds and brought it back up and rubbed faster and harder on herself. She moaned and cried, her face contorting with pleasure, “Oh Erik, my Angel, I sing for you!”

Erik gripped his mask tighter and held his breath. _Oh yes, my Christine how I would make you sing! Oh how I ache for you! To know your body aches for me in the same way. The love and music we could…no we **will** make together!_ He rested his back against the cold wall, only then realizing how much his body had heated up in arousal; it had been so long. He pushed his mask against his crotch, it did nothing but heighten his sensitivity. 

Christine was now in the complete throes of her self-pleasure. She arched her back, her legs trembled, nothing but little moans and whimpers escaped her lips. The release of her orgasm started as a pulsation through her sex, then carried up and washed like a wave over her whole body. She sighed loud and it was followed by a giggle as she stretched out fully relieved on the chaise lounge.

Sweat rolled down the sides of Erik’s face as he drunk in all of Christine glowing in bliss. Despite his shaking hands, harder still he pushed his mask into his now aching erection. He let go of his held breath in a soft moan. Christine opened her eyes and sat up.

_She heard me! She heard me!_ Erik quickly turned and sprinted slightly down the dark hall away from the mirror and paused. He felt tears come from the depths of his eyes. _Christine please forgive me, I am only a man. I might not look it, but I am a man; a man with the same desires as any other._

Christine stretched her arms over head. She quickly readjusted her disheveled undergarments and secured her robe tightly. She stood and walked over to her full-length mirror. She smiled at her reflection as she ran her fingers through her hair, “Oh Erik, My Angel of Music, when will I see you again?”

Upon hearing her voice, Erik jerked his head back. _Did she just say my name again?_

“Please Erik don’t make me wait too long,” Christine walked away from the mirror. She picked up her corset and sat back down. A few more minutes alone of silence. She knew Meg would eventually come looking for her.

Erik smiled to himself as he put is mask back on. The cold of the caverns was now numbing his arousal as he headed back to his layer but it didn’t matter. _Christine now that I know your secret I will return soon. I don’t want to wait either and I will no longer apologize for my desires._

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a (K)inkober Day 3 prompt masturbating on one list. However I discovered Phans were working off a different (K)inkober list that listed Day 3 prompt as voyeurism. Little did I know I covered both!


End file.
